


Sing me a tune, baby

by persephoneggsy



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: 1950s/1960s AU, Agent!Harry, Dirty Talk, Love at First Sight, M/M, Porn With Plot, gratuitous use of Frank Sinatra songs, i guess, idk when it's set I just wanted to set it in jazz club, singer!Eggsy, smut written by an asexual virgin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-19
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-04-05 03:13:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4163496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/persephoneggsy/pseuds/persephoneggsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry goes undercover at a jazz club owned by Dean Anthony Baker, and falls head over heels for the club's star singer, Gary "Eggsy" Unwin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Almost like fallin' in love

The _Black Prince_ was one of the lesser-known nightclubs in London, and certainly not one that Harry or the rest of Kingsman would ever frequent. For one thing, it was situated in the lower dregs of the city, where Kingsman agents practically never ventured. So, the agents weren’t exactly jumping for the chance to go on an undercover mission at said nightclub, and after a few days of the job being tossed around HQ, a very disgruntled Harry Hart, a.k.a. Galahad, took it upon himself to take the assignment.

He’d thought that the stigma surrounding the place to be a little ridiculous, anyway. The only reason he hadn’t taken the job sooner was due to a prior mission running a bit longer than expected, but when he returned to HQ, he found his associates trying to pawn off the mission to each other, which was admittedly rather amusing to watch, but exasperating after two or so days. Naturally, Arthur and Merlin were both relieved when he said he would do it.

Anyway, that was how Harry found himself at the doors of the _Black Prince_ , dressed in one of his more modest suits, so as not to stand out too much from the regular crowd. The line was substantially longer than he’d imagined for such an establishment, with all manner of ladies and gentlemen waiting to go inside. To his surprise, he spotted a few well-known politicians in the line as well. Apparently the _Black Prince_ was a well-known spot for the well-to-do to engage in debauchery, all with the owner’s promise of absolute discretion.

Harry finally made it inside a good ten minutes later, and the interior of the club was another surprise. He’d been expecting something… dingier. But instead, he was greeted with the sight of dark red, velvet-lined walls, lights placed strategically in corners to give the room dull illumination, and black-clothed circular tables, each adorned with a glass vase containing a single white rose. Harry raised an eyebrow at the sight. For all of its reputation, the _Black Prince_ had a sort of… elegance about it.

He moved to find a seat at the bar, quickly flagging down the bartender for a whiskey, and then reclining in his chair to survey the rest of the patrons. He went over the details of his mission in his head as he did that. His target was the nightclub’s owner, a Mr. Dean Anthony Baker, though target was likely too strong a term for the task at hand. It was rumored that Dean was involved in some sort of drug trading ring based in the nightclub itself, and while Kingsman tended to leave such matters to local law enforcement, this particular drug ring had managed to garner quite a large clientele without the police ever catching on. And, since many of the drugs were imported from other countries, making this an international issue, Kingsman suddenly found it appropriate to step in and take matters into their own hands. Or rather, Harry’s.

He sipped idly at his whiskey as a flurry of sound surrounded him. He could hear the bartenders joking with one another as they bustled about making drinks; he heard the people sitting near him discussing this and that, trivial matters that Harry would forget about by the end of the night; and he heard the distant chatter and laughter all the way across the room, from various patrons. But Dean’s name had yet to be said even once.

Just as he’d drained his glass and was left with nothing but ice, his eyes drifted to the front of the _Black Prince_ , where a large, lavish stage stood. A space was set aside for a full band, drums, trumpets, horns, and all, and a single microphone stood in the center of the stage. A young man- a waiter, judging by his clothes- walked up to the microphone and cleared his throat, waiting politely for most of the club to turn their attention towards him. He smiled genially and opened his arms in a theatric manner.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he said, his voice booming through the space. “The _Black Prince_ is honored to present to you, for your listening pleasure… Gary Unwin!”

There came thunderous applause, which took Harry back a bit. It seemed that Gary Unwin was a popular performer at the club. Then Harry remembered; the name ‘Gary Unwin’ had appeared in the dossier containing information on Dean Baker. He was listed as Dean’s stepson, by way of his marriage to the boy’s mother, Michelle Unwin. But the file had only mentioned him in passing, and made no effort to say that the lad was actually employed at his stepfather’s nightclub.

Harry’s interest was piqued, especially when the gentleman seated next to him at the bar leaned forward with a hopeful expression. He looked towards the stage and waited for Gary Unwin to emerge. The black velvet curtains ruffled a bit, and then suddenly they were pulled back, revealing a young man dressed rather smartly in a three-piece suit.

Harry almost lost his grip on his glass, but luckily was able to set it down on the bar top before it crashed to the floor. Usually he was much more coordinated, but one could hardly blame him for becoming distracted.

Gary Unwin was, for lack of a better word, gorgeous.

Even from the distance between the stage and the bar, which was a good twenty feet, Harry could make out the sparkling green eyes that belonged to the young man. His hair was flaxen and impossibly soft under the dim glow of the lights. His smile was cocky and self-assured, his chiseled jaw set with youthful determination, and the tastefully-made suit he wore only hinted at what marvelous, Greek statuesque physique he must have possessed. Harry could only watch helplessly as Gary strode to the mic, grabbed a hold of it, and sent a dazzling grin to the audience.

“Evenin’, everyone,” he said, voice low and slightly roughened by a street accent that certainly surprised Harry- though not necessarily in a bad way. “I hope we’re all havin’ fun tonight?”

He was answered with a rousing chorus of yesses, and that made him grin even wider.

“Perfect. Well then, I won’t keep you lot waitin’. Hugo?” he turned to the man in front of the band, who nodded at him and held up his arms, signaling that he was the conductor.

As Hugo moved his arms, the band quickly swelled up in a symphony of drum beats and horns, creating a catchy rhythm one could easily dance to. But Harry’s mind was just barely on the music. He kept his gaze trained on Gary, who was tapping his toes and smiling gently as he swayed in time to the band. Then, he leaned into the microphone, and began to sing.

_“What a day this has been, what a rare mood I’m in! Why, it’s almost like bein’ in love!”_

Were Harry standing, his knees surely would have buckled at the mere sound of Gary’s singing. In stark contrast to his street-accented speech, his singing voice was smooth and rich, easily flowing throughout the club. The gentleman seated next to Harry looked positively entranced, though Harry knew he himself probably looked no better.

_“There’s a smile on my face, for the whole human race- why, it’s almost like bein’ in love!”_

Gary continued to let his tune carry through the air, still letting his body sway to the music.

_“All the music of life seems to be, like a bell that is ringin’ for me. And from the way that I feel, when the bell starts to peal, I would swear I was fallin’- I could swear I was fallin’- it’s almost like bein’ in love!”_

The band began the musical break, as Gary spun around on his heel, still smiling infectiously.

_“It’s almost like bein’ in love!”_

His gaze traveled across the crowd, taking in the many, many admiring views. Harry supposed he was grateful that he was not the only one so drastically affected by the young man’s siren song.

_“Just like bein’ in love!”_

Then Gary’s eyes settled on Harry, causing the older man to almost jolt out of his chair. He was practically pinned under those bright green eyes, and Gary slowly smirked as he kept singing.

_“Oh, the music of life seems to be, like a bell that is ringin’ for me! And from the way that I feel when that bell starts to peal- I would swear I was fallin’, I could swear I was fallin’…”_

Gary half-lidded his eyes, creating an almost sultry look, which earned a few whistles from the audience- male and female alike.

_“It’s almost like bein’ in love!”_

He sang the last note while staring directly at Harry, who stared back with equal intensity. Harry couldn’t be sure why Gary had focused on him, but he wasn’t about to complain about having the attention of such a beautiful creature.

The last notes of the song played out, and as it did, the crowd burst into applause- Harry, too, clapped along, though he kept his eyes on Gary. The singer winked at him and then moved to bow.

Finally getting a hold of himself, Harry quickly shook his head and turned his gaze to his abandoned glass on the bar’s counter. Most of the ice had melted during Gary’s song, leaving a thin layer of condensation on the outside. Harry took a deep breath to collect his thoughts, and suddenly heard chuckling. He looked up to see the bartender smirking at him, like he knew some private joke that Harry was the butt of. When Harry’s eyes met the bartender’s, his smirk only widened.

“This is your first time here, innit?”

Harry frowned. “What makes you say that?”

“Well, for starters, you’ve got that starry-eyed look all our first-timers get when they hear Eggsy sing.”

“Eggsy?”

“Oh, sorry, Gary. Eggsy’s kind of a nickname ‘round here.” The bartender threw him a shrug. “Anyway, you was eyein’ him pretty good, so I figured you weren’t used to hearin’ him sing.”

Harry narrowed his eyes but said nothing in reply. After all, he had been guilty of ogling the young man. And judging by the bartender’s statement, it was a fairly common occurrence.

But, it seemed, that the bartender wasn’t quite done. “Hey, if it helps, I ain’t never seen Eggsy give anyone the look like he did with you.”

“The look?” repeated Harry. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Aw, c’mon mate, you must have noticed. He even winked at ya towards the end.”

Instead of answering, Harry only raised an eyebrow and pushed his glass towards the bartender, silently demanding a refill. The bartender rolled his eyes and grabbed the glass obediently. His gaze traveled somewhere over Harry’s shoulder, and he suddenly grinned again.

“Evenin’, Eggsy! Great performance tonight!”

A presence sidled up next to Harry, making the older man jump slightly, as he turned his head to see the very man he’d been not-so-subtly admiring a few minutes ago. Gary- or was it Eggsy?- smiled at the bartender, and it was evident that his attractiveness increased with proximity.

“Thanks, Jamal. How ‘bout a scotch? I’m right parched.”

“Comin’ right up.” The bartender, Jamal, then turned to Harry. “And I’ll get you your whiskey in just a minute, sir.”

Harry muttered a thank you, but found his eyes drawn to the singer, who was definitely smiling at him now.

He leaned against the bar and stuck out a hand towards Harry. “Gary Unwin. But my friends call me Eggsy.”

Harry blinked once, twice, and then finally regained control of his body as he reached forwards to shake ‘Eggsy’s’ hand. “So I’ve heard. Harry Hart.” Kingsman had decided not to use an alias for what seemed like a pretty straight-forward mission, so Harry had no qualms about giving out his real name.

Once they shook hands, Eggsy laced his own fingers together, observing Harry with what seemed like a predatory look. “I ain’t ever seen you ‘round here, Harry. You new in town?”

“Not exactly. This club was merely suggested to me by a friend, is all.”

“A friend, eh?” Eggsy leaned forwards just a bit, sending a subtle hint of his cologne in Harry’s direction. “Sorry, but you don’t seem like the type who has friends in a place like this.”

Harry shifted in his seat. “Then perhaps you have my ‘type’ figured incorrectly.”

“Do I?” Eggsy’s voice was low.

Suddenly Jamal returned, placing two glasses in front of the men and raising an eyebrow like he’d just caught them doing something obscene. Then again, Harry supposed, he and Eggsy had only a few inches of space between them, which was rather improper. But mercifully, Jamal said nothing, and returned to his bartending duties.

Eggsy grabbed his drink and took a long sip, and Harry shamelessly watched the young man’s throat bob as he swallowed. Then Eggsy set down his glass and leveled his gaze with Harry’s.

“So, Harry… What d’you think of the _Black Prince_?”

“It’s a surprise, I’ll admit,” Harry said truthfully. “Its reputation does it little justice.”

“But a good surprise, right?” Eggsy grinned.

Harry spared him a smile and sipped from his own glass. “Oh, yes. I particularly enjoyed your performance. You’re very talented, Mr. Unwin.”

Eggsy tutted, stepping closer to Harry. “Hey, none of that, now. I told you, my friends call me Eggsy.”

“Am I what you consider a friend?” asked Harry, amused. “We hardly know each other.”

“And I wanna get to know you better,” replied Eggsy. “So yeah. Call me Eggsy.”

“Very well… Eggsy.” Harry fought back a blush as the singer’s face lit up with delight. “Though, might I ask why you’re so interested in getting to know me? I could be perfectly dull, for all you know.”

Eggsy’s eyes traveled up and down Harry’s body, and the older man tried vainly not to feel a little self-conscious. “… Nah. I think you’re plenty interestin’. I can feel it, y’know?”

“I’m not quite sure what you mean.” Still, Harry couldn’t help but let his voice drop to a murmur, since he and Eggsy were close enough that the lad could still hear him. And it seemed Eggsy rather liked that, as his pupils were blown black, a small ring of green just barely visible in his eyes. The hand that Eggsy had resting on the bar counter slid closer to Harry’s. His fingertips brushed slightly against Harry’s skin, causing the older man to shiver involuntarily. Eggsy grinned and leaned in.

“Then how about I show you?” he whispered in Harry’s ear.

Harry was definitely blushing at that point, but before he could open his mouth to reply, a hand cut between them and yanked Eggsy’s shoulder, pulling him away from Harry in a rather violent manner. Eggsy shouted, and Harry immediately stood from his chair, poised to fight off the rude intruder.

Said intruder, however, was recognizable to them both. For Harry, he’d seen the man’s picture in the dossier. It was Dean Anthony Baker, the owner of the _Black Prince_ himself. And he didn’t look pleased.

“Muggsy,” he growled, directing a glare at Eggsy. “Rotti needs some help out back.”

Eggsy scowled, readjusting his jacket, which had been rumpled by Dean’s hand when he yanked his stepson back. “Why don’t you get Poodle or someone else to do it? I’m your singer, not your fuckin’ workboy.”

“You’s my stepson, that’s what you are. And you don’t got another performance tonight. So how about, instead of trying to get your sorry arse fucked, you do some actual goddamn work?” As he spoke, Dean stepped closer, towering menacingly over the younger man, but to Eggsy’s credit, he didn’t look intimidated. No, he looked more angry than anything else.

But then, instead of answering defiantly, Eggsy sighed, shoulder deflating, and said, “Fine. Fuckin’ get out of my face already.”

Dean stepped back, smiling smugly. “There’s a good lad. Get to it.” He turned, his eyes meeting Harry’s briefly. He gave the man a sneer and quickly walked off, disappearing into the throng of people inside his club.

It was quiet for a moment before Eggsy turned to Harry, looking remorseful.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” he mumbled.

Harry held up a hand. “It’s quite alright. Are you hurt?” He looked at Eggsy’s shoulder.

“Huh? Oh, nah. This is nothin’, honestly.” He grinned again, but it was considerably weaker than before. “Anyway, I should, uh… Go and do that thing.”

Harry suspected that whatever business Dean wanted his stepson to go and do, it probably had something to do with the drug ring. But it wouldn’t do to call attention to it when he barely had any leverage. So he merely nodded and regarded Eggsy sympathetically.

“A shame. I was rather looking forward to you ‘showing’ me what you meant earlier.”

Eggsy looked surprised for a moment, before a soft smile graced his lips. “Maybe I can show you some other time? You can pop by tomorrow night, if you’d like.”

Harry smiled in return. “Tomorrow night it is.”

“Sounds ace,” Eggsy laughed, beginning to walk away. But before he was out of earshot, he threw a look over his shoulder and said, “I’ll dedicate a song just for you, eh?”

Harry chuckled and waved the lad off, watching him disappear into the club.

 

* * *

 

An hour and a half later, Harry was back at Kingsman HQ, at his chair next to Arthur, as Merlin paced the room with his ever-present clipboard.

“So you at least made contact with the target, didn’t you?” asked Arthur.

“I wouldn’t say that,” replied Harry. “He saw me, certainly, but that was only because his stepson was flirting with me.”

Both Arthur and Merlin looked surprised, but Harry maintained a neutral look. Merlin glanced at his clipboard and then stared at Harry.

“Gary Unwin?”

“Yes. Apparently, he’s a singer at the club. Quite good, too.”

“And he… flirted with you?” said Arthur, who now looked a little disdainful. Harry nodded.

Merlin looked to be fighting back a smile. “Did you… flirt back?”

“There was hardly time,” Harry sniffed. “Mr. Baker came and asked, rather rudely, for the lad to go and do something ‘out back’. Their relationship doesn’t seem to be a very good one.”

Arthur hummed, leaning back in his chair just slightly as he considered the news. “Do you know what the business ‘out back’ was, Galahad?”

“No.”

“But we can infer that it might have had something to do with the drugs?”

“That seems likely but we have no real evidence of that.”

“Well, we know where you can get it,” cut in Merlin. Both men looked expectantly at him. “Gary Unwin. It doesn’t seem likely that he doesn’t know about his stepfather’s side business. And he’s already shown… interest in our Galahad here. He’s our best way in.”

“So…” Harry trailed off, uncertain. “You want me to…”

Merlin nodded. “Seduce him. Doesn’t seem like it’ll be too difficult, honestly.”

Arthur wrinkled his nose in disgust- for while seduction was a fairly common practice in their line of work, the target in question was not only less than half Harry’s age, but also a male, and Arthur was ever so conservative. But still, after a few seconds, he masked his disdain, and looked to Harry with a critical eye.

“It’s up to you, Galahad. Do what you think is best for the mission.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, but bowed his head respectfully to his employer. “Very well.”

He left the debriefing room a few minutes later, with a strange feeling of excitement thrumming in his bones.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is what Eggsy's singing: [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=whLNHRclnDc](url)
> 
> Also, smut next chapter. You were warned.


	2. Strangers in the night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well
> 
> here it is
> 
> please be gentle

Harry returned to the _Black Prince_ the very next night, and was able to reclaim his spot at the bar easily. Jamal, the bartender, recognized him and quickly fixed him another glass of whiskey, which Harry accepted gratefully.

“Glad to see you back,” he said cordially. “Wasn’t so sure, considerin’ what happened with the owner yesterday.”

“Oh, that was the owner?” Harry asked, feigning ignorance. “Not a very civil man, is he?”

Jamal barked out a laugh. “Understatement, mate. Anyway, Eggsy seems pretty smitten with ya. I doubt he’ll let Dean get the jump on him like that again if you’re around.”

Harry smiled into his glass as he sipped.

A few minutes later, the same waiter that had introduced Eggsy the previous night appeared again, giving the same short introduction before stepping away to reveal the handsome young man. His suit was slightly different this time around, now wearing a bowtie instead of the tie he’d worn before. But he still looked resplendent. Green eyes scanned the crowd until they finally landed on Harry. Eggsy grinned brightly and quickly returned his attention to the audience, greeting them with great energy, which they responded positively to.

“I’d like to dedicate this song to a special someone,” Eggsy said gently into the microphone. Immediately, whistles and hollers came up from the crowd, demanding to know who the lucky someone was. “You know who you are,” was all Eggsy said, and with a wink to the room in general, he signaled for the music to start.

_“Strangers in the night, exchangin’ glances... Wonderin’ in the night, what were the chances? That we’d be sharin’ love before the night was through.”_

Harry immediately recognized the tune, and he smiled softly. Eggsy was swaying to the calm beat, looking utterly serene.

_“Somethin’ in your eyes was so invitin’. Somethin’ in your smile was so excitin’. Somethin’ in my heart told me I must have you.”_

Harry let his eyes wander to the other patrons of the club, who stared up at Eggsy in awe. A few of them even looked jealous, presumably because Eggsy was singing that song to a certain someone that wasn’t them.

He tried not to feel smug.

_“Strangers in the night, two lonely people, we were strangers in the night. Up to the moment when we said our first hello, little did we know, love was just a glance away, a warm embracing dance away.”_

The song carried on, and Harry let himself get lost in the sound of Eggsy’s voice, watching the lad sway and move so naturally it was as if he was born with music in his veins. As the tune wound down, Eggsy sang the final note, once more looking directly at Harry. The crowd applauded him, and after a quick bow, he disappeared off the stage.

Jamal tapped Harry on the shoulder, and the older man turned to face him. The bartender smiled.

“Go up those stairs behind the stage,” he instructed, pointing to said stairs. “Eggsy’s room is the first door to the left. It’s got his name on it; ya can’t miss it.”

Harry nodded, thanked the man, and quickly finished his drink before he stood and walked over to the stairs. He was mindful of the single gun he had tucked into the back of his trousers, just in case the whole thing was some sort of trap. He sincerely hoped that wasn’t that case, but Harry had been caught off guard once or twice.

He climbed up the stairs with hardly anyone noticing him, and once he reached the top, he found himself in a dimly-lit hallway. As Jamal had said, a door bearing Eggsy’s full name was the first on the left. Harry walked in front of it and raised his hand to knock twice on the wood.

“Who is it?” came Eggsy’s muffled voice.

Harry couldn’t resist grinning as he responded. “A stranger in the night.”

He heard shuffling behind the door, and then it was pulled back, revealing Eggsy. Except, he was now without a jacket and waistcoat, and his bowtie was gone as well, leaving him in only a plain white shirt and black trousers. Even his shoes, as far as Harry could tell, had been pulled off and tucked away in some corner of the room. The top two buttons of Eggsy’s shirt were undone, giving a teasing glimpse at the bare skin underneath. Harry reminded himself to look at Eggsy’s face, and so he did, though the younger man looked amused at his reaction.

“Harry,” he said as a greeting.

“Eggsy,” he replied.

The singer stepped aside, indicating for Harry to come in, so the older man obliged. Eggsy shut the door behind him and leaned against it, smiling playfully. “So. Did you like your song?”

“I did. You seem to be a big fan of Sinatra.” Harry looked around the room. It was a bit small, but decently furnished. A sizeable bed, dresser drawer, and desk were all present. And it was neat as well, though Eggsy didn’t strike Harry as the messy type to begin with. He turned to face Eggsy, who had since pushed himself off of the door and was now sauntering right up to Harry until they were mere centimeters apart.

“What can I say?” murmured Eggsy. “The man’s got some damn good songs.”

“I think I prefer your renditions, honestly.”

Not one for wasting time (where it mattered, at least), Harry reached a hand up and cupped the side of Eggsy’s face. The young man looked up at him with those half-lidded eyes and Harry pulled him forwards, bringing their lips together in an electrifying kiss. Eggsy groaned into it, wrapping his arms around Harry’s back to try and pull him closer. Harry went willingly, and ran his tongue along the singer’s bottom lip; Eggsy responded instantly, opening his mouth for the older man to invade. And invade he certainly did. Eggsy was left gasping against Harry as he pushed and swiped his tongue over every corner of the younger’s man’s mouth. Then, when the need for air became too great, Harry pulled back, taking delight in Eggsy’s flushed, slack-jawed expression.

“Jesus,” the younger man breathed. “Fuck, Harry… I don’t think I’ve ever been kissed like that.”

“Good,” Harry replied simply, moving to press a few kisses to Eggsy’s jaw. The singer’s eyes drifted shut as Harry continued his ministrations, and he occasionally let out a quiet moan when the older man dared to nip at his skin. Harry moved his head up to bite at the soft flesh of Eggsy’s earlobe, which seemed to startle the young singer into action.

He gripped Harry’s shoulders and gave him a quick shove; it caught Harry by surprise, so he tumbled easily down onto the bed with a soft grunt. Eggsy moved fast, straddling Harry’s hips on the bed, holding him in place as he smirked down at him. Harry felt his gun jab into his back, but far more distracting was the tent currently growing in the front of his trousers.

“You’re a lot more eager than I thought,” he commented, licking his lips. “You’re just full of surprises, ain’t ya, Harry?”

Harry regained his composure in record time, and brought his hands to grip Eggsy’s thighs almost possessively. “There are many things you don’t know about me, Eggsy. We are strangers, after all.”

Eggsy responded by rolling his hips, grinning in satisfaction as he heard Harry let out a groan. “Then tell me somethin’.”

“Like what?” Harry managed to say.

“Dunno. Like… What do you do?” he asked, punctuating each word with another slow grind of his hips. “Businessman is my guess.”

Harry huffed. “Incorrect. I’m a tailor.”

“Really? Well then, maybe you can make me a suit sometime.”

“I’d be honored to. But, at the moment, I’m more interested in getting your clothes off.”

Eggsy laughed, still rolling his hips, and there was no way he didn’t feel how hard Harry was now. But, to Harry’s gratification, the young man also had a fairly noticeable bulge in his trousers.

He was distracted from these thoughts by Eggsy, who was unbuttoning his shirt with surprising speed, until he could shrug off the garment and throw it to the floor, leaving him bare-chested. Harry’s heart could have stopped at the sight of it, lean muscle and pale skin, and two dusky nipples just begging to be played with. His fingers twitched on Eggsy’s thighs.

The singer leaned in to kiss Harry, but only very briefly. He pulled back and murmured against the older man’s lips, “Your turn.”

His hands went to Harry’s suit jacket, pulling Harry forwards until he was sitting upright, Eggsy still seated in his lap. Understanding what the lad was trying to do, Harry quickly took off his jacket and tossed it aside- under normal circumstances, he would have at least draped it over a chair or something, but Eggsy was far more important at that moment that proper suit care.

Eggsy was loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt before Harry could even blink; still, he pulled off the clothes as soon as Eggsy was done, to the boy’s pleasure. Now they were both shirtless, and Eggsy ran his hands over Harry’s newly-exposed chest with a reverent expression.

“I was expectin’ you to be well fit and all, but… Christ, Harry.”

It made Harry smirk, and he took the opportunity to use one of his hands to run along Eggsy’s side, feeling the smoothness of his skin. Eggsy leaned into his touch.

“Trousers,” he said, and the singer immediately responded. His unzipped his black trousers and tugged them off, along with his underwear, which meant that he had to get off of Harry’s lap, however briefly. But when he settled once more, legs on either side of Harry’s waist, fully naked, Harry wasn’t exactly complaining. He let his eyes travel over Eggsy’s bare body, and before he could control himself, he was speaking.

“You are absolutely beautiful,” he said, meeting Eggsy’s green gaze. The younger man blushed, looking sheepish for the first time that night, and rewarded Harry’s honest response with a long, deep kiss. All the while, Eggsy’s hands were undoing Harry’s own trousers- well, one was. The other was sneaking around Harry’s back, presumably to cop a feel at his arse, but instead of skin, Eggsy’s fingers brushed against the heated metal of Harry’s gun.

He instantly pulled back, staring at Harry with wide eyes. Harry blinked, then reached behind himself to pull out the gun.

“Ah, yes. Almost forgot about that.”

“Why’re you carryin’ a fuckin’ gun?” sputtered Eggsy.

“I suppose you could say I’m paranoid,” he answered. “But honestly, it’s just a safety precaution.”

“Precaution against what? You said you was a tailor!”

“That doesn’t protect me against muggings or assault, dear boy.” Harry frowned. “Does it… really bother you?”

“I…” Eggsy bit his lip. “No, it’s… It’s kind of… hot, actually.”

Harry paused, taking in the boy’s flushed, almost embarrassed expression, and found himself grinning.

“You are full of surprises, Eggsy,” he said, parroting the lad’s earlier words to him.

“Oh, shut it,” said Eggsy, leaning in to silence Harry with another kiss.

Harry quickly put the gun on the bedside table and continued shrugging out of his trousers. Eggsy helped him along, but the boy abruptly stopped once Harry’s fully-hard cock was out.

“Eggsy?” Harry asked, concerned.

“Fuck,” was all he got as a reply before suddenly, Eggsy’s head was dipping low, and Harry felt a tongue lap around the head of his cock. His hips bucked involuntarily, and he gasped out Eggsy’s name in surprise.

This only seemed to encourage the lad, who licked a long stripe along the underside of Harry’s cock before moving to put his lips around the head. He gave an experimental suck, and Harry actually whimpered. He felt Eggsy grin around the head and, annoyed, he brought his hand to fist in Eggsy’s hair and pull the singer’s head back. Eggsy was grinning at him.

“Tart,” Harry muttered, bringing Eggsy’s head forward again so that he could keep sucking his cock. He mostly just let Eggsy do it on his own, though his hand was a constant presence near the nape of Eggsy’s neck.

Eggsy, for his part, was incredibly eager. He bobbed his head slowly at first, taking in Harry’s cock inch by inch, swirling his tongue around the organ as often as he could manage. And if that wasn’t already making Harry ooze precum like some horny teenager, than the sounds Eggsy was making certainly were. Obscene, wet noises of suction and Eggsy’s own moans of arousal made Harry’s cock twitch and leak into the lad’s mouth, which in turn increased the volume of said noises.

And then, of course, because Eggsy seemed like the kind of person to go all the way with something, Harry felt his cock bump against the back of the singer’s throat, and he swallowed around him.

“Fuck, Eggsy!” He gripped the lad’s hair even tighter and pulled him back almost immediately. Eggsy stared up at him, lips red and slicked with spit, eyes full of tears that had welled up from the effort it must have taken to swallow down Harry’s rather large length. But there was also an unspoken question in the singer’s eyes, and it was one that Harry answered.

“I was about to cum,” he said, panting slightly. Eggsy smiled, sat back in Harry’s lap, and surged upwards for a kiss, which Harry indulged him in. He could taste himself on the lad’s tongue, and perhaps that shouldn’t have been as arousing as it was, but Harry didn’t let himself dwell on it.

Instead, he reached his hand around Eggsy’s back and cupped the cheek of the young man’s arse, eliciting a groan from his mouth. He squeezed at the soft, plump flesh, soon bringing his other hand around to do the same to the other cheek. All the while he continued to lick into Eggsy’s mouth, the boy entirely willing- and responsive.

Then, in a flash, Harry broke the kiss and flipped him over, so now Eggsy’s back was against the bed, and Harry was looming over him.

“Do you have any lubricant?” he growled out. Eggsy shivered, throwing one arm haphazardly over the side of the bed to reach into the side table’s drawer. He saw the gun resting on the top and whimpered, but that only spurred him to redouble his efforts to find his elusive prize. Finally, his fingers closed around a small bottle and he tossed it towards Harry, who caught it easily.

As Harry opened the bottle, spreading a generous amount of its contents onto his fingers, Eggsy turned himself over so that he was lying on his stomach, his arse up in the air, almost as if he were presenting it to Harry. Once Harry’s fingers were coated, he used his other hand to grip Eggsy’s arse and spread it, just enough so that he could see Eggsy’s hole. He teased a finger around the rim, making the younger man squirm and gasp.

“Oh, god… Fuck, Harry, hurry up!”

“Patience, dear,” Harry muttered, but as he spoke, he pushed his finger past the rim and into Eggsy; the boy, in response, arched his back with a keening whine.

 _“Fuuuck!_ ”

Harry wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he was growing rather impatient as well- especially as he felt the lad clench around his finger to tightly. He could hardly wait to feel that sensation around his cock, so with that in mind, he made quick work of stretching Eggsy’s hole, adding the second and third fingers in rapid succession, twisting and scissoring in rhythm to Eggsy’s desperate whining and begging.

“Oh fuck… Oh god, fuck!” Eggsy gasped into the sheets. “Harry, please!”

“Hm?” Harry hummed, trying to nonchalant. “What is it you want, darling?”

“You-!” the boy choked out, just as Harry’s fingers brushed ever so lightly against his prostate. “Oh my god, I want your cock!”

Harry chuckled hoarsely, but nevertheless obeyed, and pulled out his fingers, leaving Eggsy’s hole gaping and needy. He grabbed the bottle and squeezed a fair amount of lube on his cock, spreading it with his hand until he was satisfied. Then he positioned himself at Eggsy’s entrance, the head of his cock nudging against the prepared orifice.

With no warning, Harry pushed in, grunting in pleasure as his cock breached the young man. Eggsy threw his head back and moaned obscenely, eagerly pushing his hips against Harry’s cock in an effort to take more of him in.

“Fuck, Harry, you’re fuckin’ perfect!” Eggsy praised, as Harry pushed deeper and deeper inside. He was answered with a harsh grunt on Harry’s end, as the older man was focused on getting as deep as he possibly could. When he finally, finally bottomed out, Eggsy’s lips parted in a wordless shout.

“God,” groaned Harry, “so tight, Eggsy…”

The lad did little more than push his hips insistently, which made the older man chuckle. He obeyed the unspoken command and began moving his hips, sliding out just enough to thrust back in and make Eggsy scream. He started slow at first, but Eggsy’s chanting of “harder, fuck, Harry, wreck me,” had him picking up the pace. Soon Eggsy’s bed was creaking with obvious strain as Harry fucked mercilessly into the young singer, but neither of them paid the bed any attention- they were too absorbed in the feeling of each other.

Suddenly, Eggsy arched his back, screaming a new litany of curses, and Harry distantly realized that he must have hit the boy’s prostate again. He kept his hips at that angle and drove in, satisfied to hear the same reaction pour out of Eggsy again and again. He leaned back, watching his cock slide in and out of Eggsy’s pliant body, and felt himself growing close to orgasm.

“Eggsy,” Harry grunted. “Fuck, Eggsy, I need to…!”

“Come on, Harry,” he heard from beneath him. “I want your fuckin’ cum in me!”

“You dirty little--!” Harry thrust a few more times until he could hold back no longer- he came with loud shout, emptying himself into Eggsy’s willing body. And just as Eggsy felt the first drops of Harry cum fill him up, he mewled desperately and came shortly after, increasing the intensity of Harry’s orgasm as his hole tightened and fluttered around his cock.

When it was all over, Harry leaned on the young man, though managed to keep enough wits about him to avoid crushing him with his weight. They were panting, exhausted, and covered in sweat. Finally, Harry forced himself to pull out, and Eggsy winced as he felt himself suddenly empty. Harry’s cum dripped out not a second later, and Eggsy shifted his hips in a subconscious attempt to keep it all in. Harry smiled and ran a hand down Eggsy’s spine, delighting in the way the lad arched into his touch.

“Are you alright?” he asked softly.

Eggsy laughed breathlessly into his bedsheets. “Alright? Mate, I think you just ruined other men for me. That was fuckin’ brilliant.”

The singer slowly turned over, moving to sit up. Harry noticed he was careful to avoid the mess of cum Eggsy himself had spilled onto the sheets.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” he said simply, his eyes trailing over Eggsy’s naked, sweaty form. The young man wrapped his arms around Harry’s neck and pulled him in for a languid kiss. When they parted, Eggsy rested his forehead against Harry’s.

“What about you?” he asked quietly. “Was it good for you?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever had a partner quite like you,” he answered honestly. “I must say, I enjoyed it immensely.”

Eggsy laughed again. “You posh old fucker.

“I don’t think you mean that as a complaint.”

“Nope.”

They kissed again, lips sliding lazily together, wrapped in each other’s arms in what was possibly the best afterglow either of them had ever experienced.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song: [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hlSbSKNk9f0](url)
> 
> Also, not sure how often I'm gonna write smut, but if anyone has any tips, I'd be glad to hear them.


	3. Fly me to the moon

Only a week had passed since Harry and Eggsy’s first night together, but it took them no time at all to establish a routine. Each night Harry would come to the _Black Prince,_ and after Eggsy’s performances, they would both go up to Eggsy’s room and, well… ‘recreate’ that night, as it were.

All the while, Harry was subtly picking up information about Eggsy’s stepfather and his secret business, but the closer he got to finally getting the evidence needed to shut down the whole operation, the more anxious Harry felt himself grow. Because when Dean Baker was put away from drug trafficking, he would no longer need to associate with Eggsy. And that gave Harry a bleak, hollow feeling.

In the short week they’d known each other, Harry was almost positive he’d fallen in love with the young man. Not just sexual attraction or admiration for his singing skills, either. He meant pure, head-over-heels in love. It was hard _not_ to love the lad; at some point Eggsy had talked about the rest of his family, his mother and little sister, and it was obvious how much he cared for them. He wanted desperately for his mother to just leave Dean, but they could scarcely afford to support themselves. Eggsy got even more irritated at that, since apparently, his birth father was the original owner of the _Black Prince_ , but when Dean married his mother, the rights to it went to him. So while Eggsy very well could run the club (and do a bloody good job of it, too), he was unable, since it was clear that Dean had no plans of handing it over to him.

Well, Harry supposed that would be one good thing to come out of this whole assignment. When Dean and his cohorts got arrested and put in prison, Eggsy could easily take over the nightclub and support his family. And of course, Harry would pull a few strings at Kingsman; though it was fairly certain that Eggsy had helped his stepfather with the loading and unloading of supplies, it was also obvious that Eggsy wanted nothing to do with any of it, so Harry could get him off scot-free. Perhaps he was better off that way, instead of remaining in a relationship with Harry, whose very job would have made it difficult to maintain.

All these thoughts ran through Harry’s head with increasing frequency, even as he headed up the stairs to have yet another rendezvous with Eggsy. But as he neared the young man’s door, he heard shouting from down the hall. His curiosity got eh better of him, so he moved closer to the source of the noise.

He heard Eggsy’s voice, though muffled, through the door.

“You’ve got to fuckin’ jokin’! There ain’t no way in hell!”

Dean’s gruff voice came in next. “I ain’t jokin’, and you’re fuckin’ doin’ it, so stop your fuckin’ complainin’!”

“I don’t make _sales_ for you, Dean, we fuckin’ agreed on that!”

“Tough luck, Muggsy. Rotti and Poodle are on different jobs and the rest of my boys are out. So that leaves _you.”_

“I can’t just _leave,”_ said Eggsy desperately. “I got shit to do-!”

“Oh, cut the bullshit, Muggsy. You think I dunno about your posh little fuckbuddy? You tell him to clear off, you hear? You ain’t gonna see him anymore.”

Eggsy gasped. “You can’t-!”

“I _can._ And if you don’t do it, I’ll take care of him myself.”

There was a beat of silence, and Harry heard the telltale click of a gun. That made Dean’s implications very clear, but Harry was a trained professional in the art of killing, so he was hardly scared. But Eggsy didn’t know that, so he excused the boy’s following response.

“You wouldn’t,” he said, voice fresh with horror.

“You know I would. I killed others for less. Now you tell your boyfriend to leave you the fuck alone and you get your arse down to the river to buy my next shipment. You get me? Or else it’s _your_ head on the line.”

More silence passed, until Harry heard Eggsy’s defeated sigh. Harry quickly walked away from the door and made his way down the hall until he got inside Eggsy’s room. He sat himself down on the bed and managed to look perfectly calm, as though he hadn’t heard that entire conversation.

A minute later, Eggsy entered, looking bone-tired and miserable. Harry stood, not having to feign concern to the lad’s well-being.

“Eggsy? Are you alright?” He asked, crossing over to his lover and cupping his cheek. Eggsy kept his eyes to the ground.

“I’m fine,” he said, hollowly. “I just… Harry.” He looked up, green eyes searching Harry’s face. “I don’t think we should do this anymore.”

Harry faked a look of surprise. “What? Eggsy-“

“I mean, it was all just a bit of fun, right?” he laughed weakly. “Ain’t like nothin’ was ever gonna come from it.”

Harry pressed his lips together and frowned. “Is that… what _you_ want?”

Eggsy swallowed thickly and nodded. “… It is.”

Harry tilted the boy’s chin up with one hand, and kissed him softly. Eggsy tried his hardest not to melt into it, but Harry pulled away before his resolve could crumble completely.

“Then… Goodbye, Eggsy.”

Harry dipped his head in respect, and walked out of the room. He heard Eggsy collapse on the bed and begin to sob, and he had to resist the urge to run back inside and hold him close. Because of course, he meant none of it. That kiss might have felt like a goodbye to Eggsy, but for Harry, it was a promise. He would see Dean Anthony Baker imprisoned for life for daring to threaten his love like that.

With that in mind, Harry slipped out of the _Black Prince_ and into his car, and waited for Eggsy to come out.

 

* * *

 

Eggsy ventured out of the club a good half hour later, looking considerably more tired and red around the eyes than he had when Harry left. It made the older man grip the steering wheel of his car tightly, and strengthened his resolve to make things up to Eggsy.

The young singer got into a car and began driving, and Harry followed suit, being sure to remain discreet so that Eggsy wouldn’t catch on to the fact he was being tailed.

After another half hour of driving, Eggsy pulled up to the docks of the river, and got out, carrying a briefcase presumably filled with money. Harry parked a street over and got out of his car to continue following him on foot.

Eggsy weaved his way through a maze of shipping crates until he came across a group of men, all appearing like thugs out of a typical gangster movie. The men ceased their chatting and turned to look suspiciously at Eggsy, while Harry hid behind an empty shipping crate, out of sight from any of them. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small recording device, courtesy of Merlin and the Kingsman tech department. It was far more advanced that anything on the market at the time, and could pick up sounds from over a hundred feet away. Harry pressed the ‘record’ button and remained quiet.

“Who’re you?” one man asked, stepping forwards with his gun raised.

Eggsy held up his hands. “My name’s Eg-… Gary. Dean sent me.”

Another man narrowed his eyes. “What’s the password, then?”

Harry could almost hear Eggsy roll his eyes. “… Sinatra.”

Dean probably chose that password just to piss Eggsy off, and judging by the lad’s tone, it was working. But in any case, it worked for the group of men.

“Alright. That our money?” the thug gestured to Eggsy’s briefcase.

“Yeah. But you gotta show me the goods first.”

Harry heard shuffling as the thugs pried open a shipping crate. There was a beat of silence as Eggsy checked over the contents.

“… Okay. Here you go, then.” Eggsy handed the briefcase to one thug, who opened it.

“… Hold on. There’s only twenty in here.” The briefcase snapped shut. “Dean promised us thirty-five.”

Eggsy frowned. “No, he told me he was only payin’ you twenty thou.”

“Oi, you little shit,” one of the men grabbed Eggsy’s arm. “You think you can cheat us out of our money?!”

“Look, if you got a problem, take it up with Dean!” Eggsy yelled back. “I’m just here to pick up his shipment!”

“Well, he ain’t gettin’ it, now!” The man shoved Eggsy, who fell to the ground with a grunt. Harry’s hand instinctually went to his gun, slowly pulling it out of his trousers and turning the safety off.

“How’s about we take a few teeth?” leered a thug. “Maybe a finger or two, send him back to Dean as a warnin’. We’ll give him the shipment and the boy the rest of his parts when we get paid in full.”

Several of them laughed. But one spoke up next.

“Nah, Dean’s done this one too many times. He needs a bigger warnin’ than that. I say we kill the kid. Ain’t like anybody’s gonna miss him.”

There was a chorus of agreement, and suddenly Eggsy was being yanked off the ground. Harry’s grip around the gun tightened, and he looked over the edge of the crate he was crouched behind. The group was surrounding Eggsy, who was kicking and shouting with all his might, but to no avail. Harry aimed his gun at one of the thugs and fired.

The thug fell instantly, crumpling to the ground. The rest of them turned around and grew frantic, trying to find the source of the shot, only to see an older gentleman in a bespoke suit standing by a shipping crate.

Eggsy’s jaw fell open. “ _Harry?_ What the fuck are you doin’ here?!”

His query, however, was drowned out by the angry shouting of the group of thugs.

“Who the fuck’re you?!”

“How’d you get here?”

Harry fought the urge to sigh, merely raising his gun and putting a bullet through the head of the man that had his own gun pressed to Eggsy’s head. He fell backwards, freeing Eggsy from his vice-like grip, but instead of running, the singer kept staring at Harry.

It spurred the other thugs into actions, and all came charging at the older man in an uncoordinated mess. He made quick work of them, firing his gun at those who also had firearms, and beating the other into submission with quick punches and kicks. Within minutes, Harry and Eggsy were the only two left standing, the thugs surrounding them in unconscious or dead piles on the ground. Eggsy was staring at the carnage when Harry took a hesitant step forwards.

“Eggsy.”

The lad turned his head slowly to look at him.

“I… I haven’t really been honest with you,” he started. “You see, I’m… not really a tailor.”

“I figured that,” said Eggsy, slowly, as though Harry would turn the gun on him at any moment. “What the fuck are you?”

“Would you believe me if I said spy?”

“… What, like that fuckin’ James Bond bloke?”

“… You could say that. You see, Eggsy, I was assigned a mission to take down your stepfather’s drug trafficking business. I’ve got evidence implicating him here,” he held up his recording device, which had stopped shortly before Harry started firing. “After the correct authorities get a hold of it, it will be fairly easy to prove Dean’s guilt and have him and his cohorts sent to prison. But, of course, _you_ won’t be implicated. You’ve technically helped, after all.” Harry finished his spiel uncertainly, staring at Eggsy with a combination of anxiety and hope. But the young man kept watching him with the same slack-jawed expression.

“… You’re a fuckin’ _spy.”_

“I am.”

“So… The only reason you came to the club was-?”

“To get evidence on your stepfather, yes.” Harry hurriedly added the next part. “But it was in no way necessary for me to sleep with you. That was my own choice. Eggsy, I…” He stepped forwards, and to his utter dismay, Eggsy stepped back.

“Wait,” the singer said, holding up a hand. “This is just… This is fuckin’ _insane,_ Harry. I can’t think straight…”

“… I understand,” said Harry, somewhat resigned. “I’ll… give you some time, then. But in the morning, your stepfather will be arrested. I imagine he won’t be pleased to see you before then without his shipment… Do you have a place to stay until then?”

“My mum has a house away from the club,” he murmured. “Dean bought it, but he never stays there.”

“Then…” Harry forced a smile and pulled a business card out of his pocket, holding it towards Eggsy. He looked at it suspiciously, but took it anyway. “This is where I work. The tailor shop is just our cover, but of course, you figured that already.”

Eggsy inspected the card with narrowed eyes and frowned at Harry.

The older man coughed into his fist. “I hope to see you later, Eggsy.”

The singer pocketed the card and turned on his heel, marching away from Harry without another word. And Harry was left alone, surrounded by bodies, utterly heartbroken.

 

* * *

 

A good two weeks later, Merlin called him on what was supposed to be his day off.

“Andrew and Tyler are swamped,” the technician told him. “We need someone to step in as a tailor for a while.”

Harry had sighed, but agreed to go. He’d done little more than mope around his house anyway, which was about the same as what he’d been doing for the past two weeks.

For Eggsy had yet to contact him, and as the days dragged by, Harry grew more and more desolate. Merlin, at least, was a good friend, and told Harry that Eggsy had assumed ownership of the _Black Prince_ after Dean Baker’s arrest. And according to him, it was flourishing under Eggsy’s lead. That was a small comfort to Harry, but the more selfish part of him knew that he’d ruined any chance he would have had with Eggsy. The lad was probably terrified of him now, or perhaps disgusted. After all, Harry almost made it sound like he’d slept with him purely to get to his stepfather. Harry would be rather put-off by that, too.

Finding no use in wallowing in self-pity, he cleaned himself up and went to Kingsman’s tailor shop on Savile Row. While the tailor cover was usually just that- a cover- all Kingsman agents were given basic education in the art of tailoring, and thus worked shifts at that very store. He walked inside, finding Merlin already standing at the front.

“There’s a customer in fitting room two,” he said immediately, not even pausing to say good afternoon. Harry rolled his eyes but went obediently, disappearing down the hallway and completely missing Merlin’s conspiratorial smirk.

He found fitting room two and opened the door, a greeting on his lips for the customer, but the words died as soon as he saw who it was.

Wearing a light blue suit and dark tie, the singer was every bit as gorgeous as the day Harry met him. The older man felt his mouth run dry as Eggsy crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow.

“Well? I recall you sayin’ you would be honored to make me a suit. Assumin’ you can actually do that, Mr. Spy.”

“I…” Harry stuttered helplessly. “I thought you…”

Eggsy let the cheeky façade slip, and he sighed, stepping closer to Harry. “Look, I know how I reacted earlier… But you can’t blame me. Findin’ out the bloke you been shaggin’ is really a spy is kind of a big fuckin’ deal, alright?”

Harry nodded wordlessly.

“But… I thought about it, after Dean got arrested. Thanks for that, by the way,” he smiled gently. “I mean, there are worse things for you to be. I just need to know somethin’.”

“What is it?” Harry asked, not even bothering to mask his desperation.

Eggsy looked up at him. “Do you love me?”

Harry responded immediately. “Yes, of course I do! Eggsy, I think I’ve been in love with you since the moment I heard you sing.”

Eggsy quirked a smile, and slowly, his arms came up to wrap around Harry’s neck. “Good. Because I’m in love with you, Harry Hart, and it would be pretty awkward if you didn’t feel the same way.”

Without another word, Eggsy leaned up and pressed their lips together; Harry groaned contentedly into it, pressing back against Eggsy like it was the only thing he was ever meant to do.

 

* * *

 

_**A few months later...** _

 

_“Fly me to the moon, let me play among the stars. Let me see what spring is like on Jupiter and Mars.”_

Harry smiled to himself, his eyes still closed as he lay in his bed, fully aware of the presence next to him, singing the classic tune under his breath and he burrowed in closer to the older man.

_“In other words, hold my hand… In other words, baby, kiss me.”_

Harry twisted around, finally opening his eyes to see Eggsy smiling up at him. He obliged the lad with a chaste kiss, and then leaned back to let him continue.

_“Fill my heart with song, and let me sing forevermore. You are all I long for, all I worship and adore…”_

Harry opened his mouth and sang the rest alongside his lover.

_“In other words, please be true. In other words, I love you.”_

As the words left their lips, Eggsy buried his head in the crook of Harry’s neck and sighed peacefully. Harry wrapped his arms around the young man and held him close, completely blissful. There couldn’t possibly be a better way to wake up in the morning, and Harry knew he could look forward to it for the rest of their lives.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this in one day because I am such trash
> 
> Anyway, I hope you guys liked it. Now I should probably devote some time to my WIPs


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